


Worth Every Credit

by NoisyNoiverns



Series: Jai Shepard [3]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 13:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5208131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoisyNoiverns/pseuds/NoisyNoiverns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anderson wishes he could go one day without hearing about some wacky shenanigans Shepard is getting up to. Just one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth Every Credit

The embassies were usually a peaceful place in the middle of the afternoon, with people lounging about following lunch breaks, meetings, or lunch meetings.

The keyword, of course, being “usually.”

On this particular day, the human embassy was disrupted from its usual post-food placidity by Councilor Valern practically skidding into Anderson’s office, wild-eyed (or, well, moreso than usual, what with the naturally enormous eyes) and grinning wide enough it looked like his face was going to split itself right in two. “So our satellites found something you should see,” he said without any sort of preamble.

Anderson squinted at him, brain still working on the whole “room was empty, now it’s not” part of Valern’s appearance. “What? What satellites?”

“The satellites we have in your space, obviously. Come _on_ , you have to see, it’s _art_.”

Anderson still had no idea what was going on, but if he’d learned one thing during his time in politics, it was that it was best to just go along with the salarians and hope things explained themselves along the way. So rather than try to get an explanation from Valern, he found himself practically sprinting to keep up with the seven-foot-tall-and-mostly-leg alien’s brisk jog. He almost had a heart attack when Valern looked to be seriously considering taking what he knew for a fact more than a few tower salarians affectionately termed “the express route,” aka jumping over the railing and simply plummeting all the way down to the salarian embassy on the ground floor. _He_ would be fine, having a skeleton comprised mostly of cartilage and designed for high shock absorption. _Anderson_ , on the other hand, would have a few minutes to contemplate the meaning of life and how he had just wasted it as he slowly died of having his insides turned into a “strawberry” smoothie.

Valern, to Anderson’s great relief, opted to take the elevator like a reasonable sentient being, and Anderson had a couple minutes to catch his breath before the doors slid back open and he had to start running again. If evolution were a sentient being, Anderson would have dearly loved to have a long talk with it as to exactly why it decided to make salarians so damn tall.

As per usual, the salarian embassy was a hive of activity, oblivious to the mid-afternoon lull omnipresent in the rest of the tower. Valern weaved through the mess of people and furniture with ease, only his distinctive long and thin horns, easily visible with his hood down, identifying him to Anderson as he tried to follow.

Valern stopped at a desk not far from his office, the holo placard on which identified the reddish-orange salarian sitting at it as Darthol Aehe, Sur’Kesh’s ambassador. Behind Aehe, a handful of other salarians and an asari had gathered, intently watching something on the ambassador’s terminal screen. Valern joined the small crowd, peering over shoulders. “What’d I miss?”

“They’re almost done,” reported one salarian Anderson recognized as Esheel, the salarians’ chief ambassador. “Just started the last letter.”

Anderson frowned and started to worm his way in, trying to get a view of the screen. “What? What’s going on?”

The asari moved over a bit, making room for him to look over Aehe’s shoulder. He squinted, trying to make sense of the image in front. Hold on… “Is that the _Normandy_?”

Sure enough, a very familiar silver-and-black shape was visible orbiting a blue planet. Aehe tapped a couple keys, and a second monitor to one side flickered to life, now displaying a scale model of the blue planet. “Over your planet Uranus, to be precise,” she said. “We’ve been monitoring them for… What’s it been now, a day?”

“Day and seven hours,” offered a fairly young-looking salarian. Or, Anderson assumed they looked young. Salarian aging was so wonky compared to human, it was hard to tell. They had that ‘chipper new intern’ look to them, at least.

Aehe nodded in acknowledgement, then started typing again, entering commands into the model program. “They’ve been putting down probes. At first, we thought they were just trying to milk it for all it was worth, but then we noticed a pattern.”

A little window popped up, and rows of symbols his translator told him were numbers started popping up. With each new row, a black dot appeared on the planet model. Coordinates, then. He frowned, watching the dots slowly mark out a familiar shape. And another, and another, and another.

After maybe a minute, the little model of Uranus had four big, capital letters emblazoned on it, and Anderson could only let his jaw drop as he watched the dots continue to appear, writing out more letters.

Over his shoulder, Valern spoke. “They were halfway done with the second word when somebody remembered we should probably tell you, but you were asleep at the time, so we decided to wait.”

“And then _somebody_ ,” Esheel added, “forgot about it entirely until just a few minutes ago.”

“I didn’t _forget_ , it just slipped my mind,” Valern protested.

“If you two are about to fight to the death, could you _please_ not do it in my workspace? I don’t want to be the one who has to tell the janitors why there’s bloodstains in the carpet, which I _will_ if they’re anywhere near here,” Aehe complained.

Valern and Esheel grumbled somewhat, but went quiet, and Anderson let them lapse into silence as Shepard worked on the letter ‘S’.

* * *

 

“Hi, Anderson!” Jai chirped cheerfully as they answered the comm. “So, did I mention I told Timmy where he could shove approximately everything? ’cause I totally did, it was cool, I think Manda has a recording-”

“Shepard,” Anderson interrupted, rubbing his thumb and index finger in circles under his eyes, “why did you write _‘Fuck Cerberus’_ in all capital letters on Uranus with probes?”

Jai’s smile faltered slightly. “Well, see, that’s part of the story, see, like, ’fore I hung up, I told Timmy, I told him, I told him I left him somethin’ on Uranus, jus’ gotta map out all the probes and play connect the dots, y’know?”

Anderson groaned. “Look, I’m all for you giving Cerberus the shaft, but why Uranus?”

Jai spread their hands innocently. “ _Uranus_ , Anderson. The joke writes itself.”

Anderson slowly put his face in his hands, and Jai protested, “Hey, it was funny!”

“Maybe to _you_. _I_ have to explain to a _very_ long list of people why that is now scrawled across a gas giant in probe coordinates!”

Jai folded their arms. “Hey, man, I’ll have you know Councilor Valern _personally_ high-fived me when I dropped by the Citadel this morning, trufax. Or, wait, three fingers, maybe it’s a high- _three_ …”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://bipolarhangerrel.tumblr.com/post/133178660943/motheatenscarf-the-illusive-man-before-she-cut) video.


End file.
